While the 2012 Olympics have been widely applauded as a massive success for London and Team GB, the same cannot be said for the Team UAE. As the country’s 30 competitors returned from London empty-handed, the UAE’s only ever gold medal winner, HH Sheikh Ahmed bin Hasher Al Maktoum,called on the government to reform its approach to sportfrom its current “embarrassing” level.

Sheikh Ahmed, who won a gold medal for double-trap shooting in the 2004 Olympics, this year coached Team GB’s Peter Wilson to gold in the same sport. “Looking for an Olympic champion [in the UAE] is far harder than finding a diamond,” he said last week as he urged the government to encourage more children to take up sport.

And the UAE is not a country to hang around. Just two days later, the government announced a new project called “The Olympic… Read more

Well, the French were very keen on the Olympic opening ceremony, as well they might be. Many stars of sport and the arts were featured, but only one of them starred throughout – the French language. Every time an announcement was made, it came in French first. I wondered how many people heard a (to them) incomprehensible announcement in French, then struggled to make out the English which was often half-obscured by cheering or fireworks. Even when the teams filed in, in English alphabetical order, the French name of their country was given first, despite the fact that this put the nations in the wrong order – Côte d’Ivoire, for example, should have come just after Costa Rica, not before Japan. This was all in accordance with the Olympic charter, of course, which dates back to the days when French was still an important language on the international diplomatic scene, spoken as a second language by most of eastern Europe. According to the charter (or la charte), all Olympic announcements have to be made in French, English and the local language, if that is different. But a double announcement already sounded like one too many in this pixellated world of ours, so from now on, maybe they should just have them in the local language over the PA system, with TV commentators giving the translations.

Or given that the Olympics has become such a huge market for sponsorship, with so many seats empty just because sponsors haven’t bothered to use their tickets, maybe countries could earn some extra money, or reduce ticket prices, by selling off the second language spot. I look forward to the day when some billionaire geeks get together and make sure announcements are read out in Klingon. Though I’m not sure Klingon has a word for synchronized swimming.

The French didn’t seem to notice the place of honour given to their language (they took it for granted, of course). What their newspapers loved most was l’humour anglais. And rightly, too. I was amazed and gratified to see comedy given such prominence. And they could hardly believe that they’d actually seen the Queen playing a Bond girl. I tried to think of a French equivalent, in which a classic, internationally famous, film character meets up with the head of state – Emmanuelle inviting François Hollande to join her in her curtained limo? Cyrano de Bergerac whisking Valérie Trierweiler off for a gallop? I was almost disappointed that it wasn’t an Anglo-French film segment, in accordance with the charter – Inspector Clouseau coming to fetch the Queen, accidentally kicking one of the Corgis out the window, then forgetting his parachute when he jumped out of the helicopter so that he had to clutch on to Her Maj’s knickers as she descended gracefully into the stadium. (Sorry, letting my fantasies run away with me.)

None of the French people I know appreciated the importance of hearing two famously banned songs during the ceremony – “God Save the Queen” (the Sex Pistols’ version) and “Relax” (an instruction manual about a different sort of sex pistol). Inclusivity was right. I wondered whether the French would have dared broadcast their equivalents, which would probably have been Serge Gainsbourg’s reggae version of the Marseillaise and his “Je t’aime moi non plus”, the latter of which contains the delightful lines “je vais et je viens, entre tes reins” – I come and I go, between your kidneys.

Actually, the answer is probably yes, because the French love to shock, especially while proving how sexy they are. But what France wouldn’t have done was, typically, what I loved most about the ceremony. The glorification of popular culture – hip-hop, punk and rock, excerpts from sitcoms and soaps, James Bond – and the acceptance that this, today, is our culture, whether culture snobs like it or not, is something that is still beyond the French establishment. They might well have had a separate section celebrating “la culture populaire”, but it would probably have been geared to selling French movies overseas, and would definitely not have permeated the whole show. Though if they ever do come around to this very British way of thinking, I look forward to singing along with a billion TV viewers, “I come and I go, between your kidneys”, in however many languages they want.

When studying abroad, many British expats earn some money translating. But when moving to America, I never expected to become a translator myself.

I am currently back in the UK for a few weeks, and proudly watched Friday’s Opening Ceremony from the comfort of my family’s sofa. I loved every NHS-celebrating, Shakespeare-spouting, Iron-forging second of it.

But I was surprised to wake up on Saturday morning to a barrage of queries from my American friends. Who was that strange man quoting The Tempest? Was he supposed to look like Abraham Lincoln? Who on earth is Dizzee Rascal, and what does ‘bonkers’ mean anyway?

On Friday night, I was vocally praising Danny Boyle’s ability to create a quintessentially British celebration – at once endearing, uplifting, humble, bizarre, witty, and self-deprecating – but a readable one. Who, in the world, did not love the clip of… Read more

In July 2005, as Prime Minister Tony Blair and Lord Sebastian Coe were patting each other on the back having secured the 2012 Olympic Games for London, Mayor Bloomberg licked his wounds and tried to forget the $35 million spent on New York’s own campaign to host the games. But now, as London gears up for this Friday’s opening ceremony, New Yorkers are laughing off their near-miss and celebrating their stress-free transit this summer.

Yesterday, the New York Daily News published an article entitled, “Thankfully, the 2012 Olympics arrive in London this week, not New York.” New York and London have often been pitted against one another as leading international cities – in fashion, art, cuisine, real estate, music and business. But this week, New Yorkers are triumphantly claiming the upper hand. Reporter Filip Bondy gloatingly told his fellow Americans, that rather than losing the bid, “we… Read more

Although the weather is cold and soggy in London, excitement for the imminent 2012 Olympics is hotting up in America. But whilst Americans prepare for a summer supporting their athletes, and there are high hopes for some gold medal wins, many are lamenting this year’s uniform design.

On Tuesday, Ralph Lauren released pictures of the Opening Ceremony outfits to almost universal horror. Whilst the classic American designer, famous for his polo horse logo, claims that the uniforms “embody the spirit of American athleticism and sportsmanship,” other commentators were quick to disagree. The New York Postcomplained, “Our Olympic heroes will be headed off to London this month – looking as if they’re decked out for a Hamptons lawn party.” The New York Daily News was similarly scornful, and with a burning critique that nearly had me choking with laughter on my Earl Grey at their… Read more

Since relocating to the US two years ago, I have done my best to seize every travel opportunity that has come my way. I view a weekend stay with a friend, a road-trip across state boundaries, or even an afternoon in an unexplored part of town as an unmissable experience. My stay across the pond has always felt temporary to me, and I do my best to see and do all I can in America – after all, I never know when I will have the opportunity to travel around the States again. American friends often comment on how I have seen more of the United States than they have managed, or that I know more of the country than they do. I have, in effect, been behaving as a long-term tourist for the past two years of my life.

Well here I am in jolly old Blighty, and I must say, so far, Britain has done me proud. This weekend, the sun was shining on this green and pleasant land, and as soon as we landed at Heathrow, we have been treated to the best of British behaviour.

Quick disclaimer: I am a terrible traveller. Regardless of tiredness and lack of caffeine, I remain wide-awake on airplanes. No amenity kit eye mask or set of foam earplugs can save me from insomnia, and mild underlying fear of disaster. However, once I arrive on solid land, it is all I can do to remain awake. Shunning all advice to the contrary, I always succumb to the long nap, and thoroughly screw up what is left of my body clock. Then it usually takes me a good week to get onto Greenwich Mean Time – an adjustment that I believe… Read more

So, just like that, term is over. Four final papers now sit in my professors’ in-trays, awaiting the corrective red-pen treatment. With that, I am halfway through my Master’s course, and halfway through my time in New York.

Although we are ‘officially’ done with studies until classes resume in September, I have plenty to fill my time. Over the next few months, I will start making choices about my next steps (doctorate or job? back to the UK or further time abroad?) and begin thinking about applications. I also have to complete an internship, to further bulk-up my resume. And, of course, I need to earn some much needed money. Hopefully I can fit in a summer holiday somewhere along the way.

But before I begin with all of the above, my graduate school takes all first-year students on a “term abroad” – a week or so… Read more

It seems like the Games are going out with more of a whimper than a bang. GB’s wheelchair curlers may have had a final hurrah by winning their game 10-4 last night, but they failed to reach the semi-finals. Heck, even the Canada sledge hockey team will not achieve the dream of three golds (Olympic men’s and women’s, and sledge hockey) for the host nation after a shocking loss to Japan at the UBC Thunderbird Arena. And, as the finishing weekend of the Paralympics hurtles towards BC, it feels like the navel-gazing the city is renowned for will start up again in earnest. Newspaper columns have already been looking at what the worldwide press was saying – or not saying – about the city (reminiscent of that hackneyed expression, “Enough about me. What do you think about me?”). Business leaders and estate agents (known as realtors here)… Read more

For once, it’s not all about youth – and I guess when you’ve recently turned 40 that’s a fact you really, really love. In the Olympics, it’s news if an athlete is in their mid-to-late 30s (although the oldest, Hubertos Von Hohenlohe who raced in the giant slalom for Mexico, was in fact 51). In the Paralympics, it’s if they are in their 60s and 70s.

The oldest Paralympian, Takashi Hidai.

Japan’s Takashi Hidai is, at 75, the oldest Paralympian, and ParalympicsGB wheelchair curler Michael McCreadie turned 64 yesterday. Perhaps it is age that is helping to make these Games so much more relaxed – and one where there are fewer of the media-savvy responses. For example, McCreadie’s team mate Aileen Neilsen’s jokes with the BBC about how the sport helps her to not eat too many cakes and, according to local writer Daphne Bramham’s column, one visually impaired skier confessed how “she was… Read more